A Shadow of a Man
by Katniss17
Summary: My english coursework for AS. My interpretation of what happened when Quirrell met with Voldemort and how they became to be so 'attached'.


Katie Friday 28/03/2011 AS Lang and Lit

The Black Forest's canopy loomed overhead, the sullen branches twisted and turned, ensnaring Professor Quirrell as he nibbled nervously at his nails; unable to shake the feeling of foreboding that was weighing down on his shoulders. He was just starting out as a teacher of "Defence against the Dark Arts" at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was an honourable role, offered to him by none other than Albus Dumbledore himself. It was a vital role, training young witches and wizards to become great. Yet, Professor Quirrell did not feel prepared, hence the work experience. It seemed like a good idea at the time, now he wasn't so sure. A strange feeling settled around the forest, a gentle breeze ruffled the leaves in the otherwise silent evening.

Quirrell set about putting his tent up. His hands shook violently as he drummed the pins into the ground, stopping every now and then to listen to the muted forest. He felt as though a million menacing eyes were piercing into his skin. He crawled into the tent, curling up to keep himself warm. There were many rumours about the dark forest: stories about horrible hags, wicked werewolves, and vicious vampires. He didn't know if he could cope with it all.

_They are only rumours, they don't exist. They are only rumours, they don't exist. But… Wizards didn't exist either did they? Well, they didn't until his 11th birthday. Everything's been so complicated since then… _Quirrell pondered. His thoughts were bought to an abrupt halt. There was a noise outside; movement.

He wasn't alone.

The once still and silent forest was now full of life. A cold wind screamed through the opening, thrashing the leaves about. The moonlight shone as bright as a lumos maxima charm, it was unnatural. Wild squirrels and mice scurried in all directions; tawny owls flew overhead, hooting, wolves prowled through the trees. There was something more, something dark.

"H-Hello? W-Who's out there?"

The shadow moved swiftly. There was a sound of breathing, shallow and hoarse.

"You..."

It was almost incoherent, but there was definitely a voice. It sounded drained and weary. Quirrell squinted into the darkness, trying to find the source of the disembodied utterance.

"Quirinus... I need you... I need your help... Come closer..."

Nobody had ever told him he was needed. A warm, tingling feeling built up in his stomach, a small smile crept onto his face. He approached the shadows, unaware of what he may find. As he moved closer, the shadow began to take form.

The figure skulked in the darkness of the forest, each movement more feeble than the last. It was weak, broken, and Quirrell felt a twinge of sympathy towards it. He knelt next to the being.

"W-What d-do you want from m-me?"

A fragmented laugh emanated from the figure, as it slowly became stronger.

"You don't know who I am, do you?"

This dumbfounded Quirrell. No, he didn't know who the character was. His voice wouldn't be enough to identify him, and he couldn't see his face. If he had a face.

"N-no... W-who are you?"

He laughed again. The hair on Quirrell's neck prickled as the sound filled the air with menace. The feeling was too familiar to him, a mix of confusion, fear and hatred. He could not figure out why.

"I am your dark Lord..."

Realisation hit Quirrell suddenly, causing everything to come flooding back. The wizarding war, that night at Godric's Hollow... Everything. He took a step back from the figure, trying to straighten his thoughts. V... Volde... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named hadn't been destroyed that night. He was here.

"I need your help Quirinus... I don't have the power to go on alone... I can't do it without you..."

He was the dark lord; trying to take over the world. He wanted to kill Muggles, Muggle-borns, anyone who stood in his way. Yet here he was, asking for Quirrell's help. Quirrell couldn't help but feel both grateful and hesitant.

"I... I c-can't... I'm n-not turning my b-back on the p-people who've s-supported m-me..."

Voldemort laughed hatefully.

"Supported you? They never cared about you. They wouldn't even notice if you vanished. You're nothing to them, Quirinus; they tore you apart at school, made your life hell. But if you join me... We could rule the world together. They'd never call you quivering, squirrelly Quirrell ever again. With me, you could be somebody."

The torn, confused academic thought this over. It was appealing, of course. He'd always wanted to be noticed, and now he had the opportunity. All he had to do was help Voldemort. Was that so bad?

"Deal."

A piercing scream sliced through the thick, cold air.

2 Page


End file.
